


Holiday Scribblings 2014

by Neurotoxia



Category: Bleach, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up/Make Up, Chocolate, Christmas Cards, Christmas Tree, Costumes, Food, Gen, Holidays, Hot Springs & Onsen, Interrogation, Japan, Japanese Culture, Karaoke, Kidlock, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, New Years, New Zealand, Poinsettia, Pre-Canon, Presents, Reconciliation, Reindeer, Sledding, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/pseuds/Neurotoxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short holiday-themed ficlets for different pairings, characters, and fandoms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trimming the Tree (Sherlock)

**Author's Note:**

> The holiday collection that may or may not become an advent calendar. Rating will be adjusted as necessary; tags for characters, pairings, content will be added as the collection grows. These ficlets are part of a writing exercise for me, so please excuse some residual roughness as they haven't been extensively edited or beta-read.
> 
> Themes are taken from [Femslash Yuletide](http://femslashyuletide.tumblr.com/tagged/themes%2014) unless mentioned otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor Trevor/Sherlock Holmes - Sherlock (TV) - Tattoo!lock AU

"Sherlock, why is the tree I'm sure was six feet tall only three feet now?" Victor asks, eyeing the fir he'd dragged up the stairs a couple of hours ago. It barely reached up to his hip now.

"No one needs this big a Christmas tree. I, however, needed inspiration for the woodland creature I'm supposed to tattoo tomorrow. I borrowed some of the branches for the necessary experiments." Sherlock holds up a taxidermied snowy owl he’s glued a branch to.

"You needed half of my tree to stick on an owl?"

"There's also a fox, a pheasant and a deer.“ Sherlock counts them on his fingers as he speaks.

"A deer?"

"Yes, a deer. It’s in the tub,“ Sherlock says with one eyebrow raised, for all the world looking like it was the most natural thing to have a deer in the tub.

"The tub?"

"What are you, a parrot? Of course it's in the tub, where else would I dye the fur?"

Best not to ask, really.

"…okay. I’ll be over here with my half of the Christmas tree, decorating it like a normal person."


	2. Holiday Traditions (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor Trevor/Sherlock Holmes – Sherlock (TV)

„More eggnog, Victor?“ 

„Don’t mind if I do, Mrs. Holmes,“ Victor grins and holds up his mug for Mummy Holmes to refill. „It tastes excellent!"

„Thank you, darling.“ Mrs Holmes beams and takes the mug from Victor’s hand. „I’m so glad Sherlock finally brought you over. He was keeping you a secret, the silly boy."

Victor is wearing a pair of reindeer antlers on his head, has a piece of silver tinsel garland wound around the band keeping his dreadlocks in check and a golden Christmas bauble dangling from the tunnel in his earlobe. Next to him, Sherlock scowls at his mother.

„I didn’t bring him over, Mycroft kidnapped us off the street and deposited us here before he took off again, claiming he couldn’t stay!"

„Well, Mycroft is always busy, you know how your brother is. And don’t look like that, it’s Christmas."

„That’s exactly the problem."

„Come on, cheer up,“ Victor says and slings an arm around Sherlock’s shoulders, pulling him close to press a kiss to his cheek. Sherlock grumbles and winds himself out of the embrace. 

„It’s nice to have someone here who enjoys Christmas dinners,“ Mrs Holmes says and hands Victor a fresh mug of steaming eggnog. "The boys always act like a pack of Grinches.“

„I love it. At home, we never celebrated much because my mum often worked over Christmas for the extra money. Hard to support three kids as a single mum. And what's more: it’s summer in New Zealand right now, the atmosphere’s so different – I used to take my sisters to the beach on Boxing Day. Christmas in winter, with snow, is so much better!"

„All the more reason we should celebrate it properly,“ Mrs Holmes beams and ruffles Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock grumbles and tries to shake her off. „How about some Christmas crackers?"

„You have Christmas crackers?“ Victor grins, eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Sherlock groans and slumps forward, hitting his forehead lightly on the dinner table.


	3. Chimney (FF7)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy VII - Tseng/Reno

"I’m going to kill you, I swear,“ Reno hisses into his headset, trying to find a position that isn’t uncomfortable and cold.

"Is that any way to talk to your commanding officer?“ comes Tseng’s voice over the intercom and Reno swears he can _hear_ him grin.

"Does a commanding officer do _this_ to his staff?“ Reno wants to punch something and can’t.

"If the mission requires it,“ Tseng says, cool as a cucumber. "I thought surprise attacks were exactly 'your thing‘."

"Busting out of a chimney in a Santa costume to bash some wanker’s head in is not ‚my thing‘, Tseng! I’m climbing down a fucking chimney! A dusty, cold tube of bricks full of soot!"

"Sorry, but you’re the only one who’d fit in there,“ Tseng chuckles. The bastard isn’t the least bit sorry.

Reno nearly looses his grip in the narrow passage and curses under his breath. "This is ridiculous. I’m not doing this. Find a rookie for that crap mission."

"Let me make a proposal," Tseng says in a suggestive tone and Reno’s mouth runs dry. "You go in and get the job done quick and without complaints and I’ll let you put that costume to good use at your flat later.“

"What do you say?“ Tseng asks.

"Back in twenty."


	4. Sledding (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes & Mycroft Holmes
> 
> Many thanks to crookedspoon for the leaf blower ;)

"It won’t work, Sherlock,“ Mycroft sighs, hands buried in his pockets. They’re cold, despite the pair of thick woollen gloves he wears. 

"Shut up, it will!“ Sherlock tries to give him a death stare, but it’s not very threatening coming from a ten-year-old boy. "There has to be a way to improve sledding!"

"I don’t think father’s leaf blower is the answer,“ Mycroft says, following Redbeard with his eyes. The dog’s sniffing with interest at the shrubs covered in snow a few yards away. Not that Redbeard would ever run away: he’s old and doesn't leave Sherlock’s side willingly. Mycroft can’t quite understand Sherlock’s fondness for him, but Sherlock has always had a simple mind. Simple creatures probably resonate with him.

"Well, good thing I didn’t ask you,“ Sherlock grumbles and fiddles with the concoction of knobs, wires and engine parts he’s attached to their simple wooden sled. Over the last week, Sherlock took their father’s leaf blower apart in his room, obsessed with the idea of 'improving‘ sledding. In Mycroft’s opinion, sledding can only be improved by not sledding at all. 

"Fine, do as you please,“ Mycroft says and pulls his neck towards his shoulders, hiding his chin under his scarf. It’s freezing and Mycroft would much prefer to sit in front of the fireplace, but Mummy asked him to keep an eye on Sherlock outside while she’s busy preparing the Christmas dinner.

Finally, the engine comes to life, revving and howling. Redbeard jumps at the sound, scaring off the bird hiding in the hedge he was after. Sherlock makes a triumphant face. "See, it works!"

"The engine speed is too high, you have no sufficient steering–“ Mycroft pipes in, but Sherlock ignores him, climbing onto the sled. If nothing else, Mycroft has to admire the determination.

With the press onto one of Sherlock's self-made levers, the sled takes off, racing ahead for a couple of dozen yards, before his brother loses control and the sled swerves wildly. It speeds off to the right, over the edge of a small hillside. Mycroft hears a yelp and the sound of something heavy falling into snow-laden bushes. A second later, the engine dies, giving way to a string of curses that would put a sailor to shame. To round it all off, Redbeard has started barking in agitation.

Right, time to survey the damage.


	5. Greeting Cards (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Hudson, Sherlock Holmes – Sherlock (TV)

Sherlock isn’t quite sure how he ended up in Mrs Hudson’s sitting room, fingers aching from holding a pen far longer than he’s used to in recent years.

All he wanted was tea and a couple of biscuits, two things Mrs Hudson would never run out of. Unlike Sherlock, who hasn’t felt like shopping the last week and can’t rely on John to do it anymore.

Mrs Hudson had indeed a pot of tea ready, but only relinquished a cup of it in exchange for Sherlock’s company and ‚a bit of help.‘ She’s writing Christmas cards and wants him to write addresses on the envelopes and add stamps. By now, not even tea helps getting rid of the taste of glue on his tongue. He should have gone to Speedy’s for the tea, but he was bored: Lestrade hasn’t called all week, John’s swamped at the surgery, and not even Mycroft’s stopped by to annoy him. This way, he can at least hear the latest gossip from Mrs Hudson.

Mrs Hudson is even more chatty than usual with the smell of her herbal soothers still lingering in the room and she recounts all the stories Mrs Turner told her the other day. Christmas is an excellent time for gossip.

While Mrs Hudson is busy speaking of the neighbours’ new cat, Sherlock wonders why anyone still writes greeting cards when you could be sending an email. He picks up a particularly awful card Mrs Hudson just slid across the table.

„Why do you even send this card?“ Sherlock asks, holding the the card of an ugly, cartoonish Christmas tree and Father Christmas next to it between his tumb and index finger at the corner, holding it at arm’s length. "The design and your handwriting clearly say you don’t like the recipient."

„It’s for my sister-in-law,“ Mrs Hudson says with a serene smile, not looking up from the much more tasteful card she’s currently writing to her hairdresser.

„Why are you writing your sister-in-law? Wasn’t she the one who tried to get your husband off death row? Given how intent you were to have her brother executed instead, I can’t imagine she appreciates the cards. Much less something as repulsive as this."

„She hates it – which is precisely why I send one every year,“ Mrs Hudson smiles impishly and Sherlock can’t contain a quiet snort.

„And they say I have no tact."


	6. Reconciliation (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor – Tattoo!lock AU

„What the _hell_ are you doing here?“ Victor asks, heavy water glass from his nightstand in his hand to throw at the intruder. The fairy lights he’d hung across his vinyl shelf are the only reason why he recognised Sherlock before smacking him in the face with a glass.

Realising that it’s Sherlock doesn’t do much to quell the urge.

„I came to speak to you,“ Sherlock grumbles.

„In the middle of the night? How did you even get in? You left the key here.“ Victor puts the glass on the nightstand and falls back into his pillow.

„Please, as if that lock is much of a hinderance,“ Sherlock huffs and Victor throws him a dirty look. „I’ve just arrived. I didn’t see the point in waiting until morning."

„Of course you didn’t,“ Victor sighs. „Weren’t you supposed to be in England for the holidays?“ Why is he even participating in this conversation? He should toss Sherlock out on his arse and go back to sleep.

„I was. My mother sent me back. Apparently, she doesn’t agree with the ‚way I left things here,‘“ Sherlock grumbles and rolls his eyes.

„Oh, gee, why could that be? It’s perfectly normal after all to break up with your partner because their bad mood is ‚distracting,'“ Victor quips, voice dripping with sarcasm.

„It _was_ distracting,“ Sherlock retorts. „You were complaining for weeks."

„Excuse me for getting in a bad mood about not being able to go home for Christmas because some arsehole stole my machines. I haven’t seen my family in four years. Sorry if that’s inconvenient for you,“ Victor turns on his side and pulls the sheet back up.

Not only was Sherlock not concerned with the theft of Victor’s tattoo machines, he hadn’t exactly seen why Victor was upset that he’d have to cancel his flight ticket again to buy new equipment either. Victor secretly hoped that Sherlock might ask him along to his Christmas visit with his parents, just so he wouldn’t wallow in his misery alone over Christmas and New Year’s. Instead, Sherlock broke up with him because Victor’s bad mood interrupted his ‚creative process‘ and left for England after.

And now he’s back because his mum sent him? Charming.

A small case lands with a heavy thud on the pillow next to Victor’s head. Victor wants to hiss at Sherlock to get lost, but then he recognises the silver case with the band logo stickers and scrambles like a man possessed to open it. 

His machines. And not a single screw is missing.

"How…?" he asks, turning to Sherlock who's leaning against the windowsill. 

"Someone offered machines fitting yours in a forum for private sale. I tracked the seller down and _persuaded_ him to give them back," Sherlock says and shrugs. "There's also a train ticket inside. My mother strongly suggested that I not try turning up again without you in tow."

"What about my being too irritating?" Victor asks, although most of his anger has already dissipated. For Sherlock, this is as close as he'd get to an apology. 

"I eliminated the source of your foul mood, so your presence should be tolerable now."

"You're an arse, you know that?"

"So I've been told." Sherlock smiles. 

"Good. When does the train leave?" Victor asks, expression neutral. 

"9 a.m. from St Pancreas," Sherlock says, scouring Victor's face for a clue how he's supposed to interpret the question. 

"Great, now shut up and come to bed."


	7. Gift Exchange (FFVII)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy 7 - Tseng/Reno

„Motherfucker!"

„Stop squirming,“ Tseng says and glares at Reno who’s flinched away from the ice pack.

„It hurts!“ Reno complains and winces.

„It happens when you get a five-inch cut across two busted ribs,“ Tseng replies in a dry tone and places the ice pack gently on the swollen and bruised rib cage with the angry red gash under his fingers.

„You’re the one who’s not letting me have any more Cure Materia,“ Reno grunts but leaves the pack where it is. „Though right now, I really don’t care if I slow down my natural ability to heal."

„I do, so shut it,“ Tseng sighs and takes a proper look at his bloodstained shirt and trousers. „Another suit ruined."

„So sorry about that,“ quips Reno. „I should have gotten you one for Christmas."

„I was kidding. You saved my life today, I think that’s enough of a present.“ Tseng smiles and adjusts the pack threatening to slide off Reno’s ribs. „You get to lounge about in my bed for the whole of Christmas and I’m not making you get up in the morning."

„So you’re gonna be my nursemaid? Sweet,“ Reno grins. „I’m going to count that as my Christmas present."

Tseng brushes his fingers through the hair on Reno’s forehead and smirks, „You do that. I didn’t get you anything in the first place.“ 

„Yeah, yeah. Mr-I’m-from-Wutai-we-don’t-have-Christmas,“ Reno snorts and raises his head while Tseng pulls the pillow out from underneath to fluff it. 

„Given that I _did_ save your life,“ Reno says, mischief sparkling in his eyes, „do I get another wish?"

„What?"

„Will you put on a sexy nurse uniform? I’d love to see your butt in a tight white dress,“ he grins.

A second later, the pillow hits him square in the face with a thud.


	8. Festive Drinks (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor/John Watson – tattoo!lock AU

"Okay, you're right. This is just as good as celebrating Christmas." Victor leans back in the private onsen, sinking up to his shoulders into the streaming water.

"Better, you mean," Sherlock mutters around the rim of his sake cup.

„Not everybody hates Christmas, Sherlock,“ John pipes in, holding out his cup for Sherlock to refill it with hot sake.

„Oh please, as if your Christmases were always a walk in the park,“ Sherlock scoffs.

„It was only when I was an adult that Christmas started to fall apart. My Christmases as a child were great, I’ll have you know,“ John says, mood mellowed by copious amounts of sake in his system.

„And yet, neither of you two Christmas-loving people hesitated when I proposed a trip to Japan to escape the relentless cheer and goodwill."

„You offered a luxury ryokan with a private hot spring,“ Victor grins and fishes for the sake. "There was nothing to hesitate about.“

„There is no other way for three tattooed men to use a hot spring other than renting one and this is one of the finest establishments in the country. I owe Mycroft at least three favours now for getting us in on such short notice, but I have consumed enough alcohol to think that this might be worth it.“ Sherlock rests his head against the edge of the pool and closes his eyes, a contented sigh leaving his lips.

John follows one of the ryokan’s attendants with his eyes as she passes the outside of the bamboo fence shielding their onsen from any person passing the premises. „So, given that this is a very expensive, very luxurious guesthouse, I assume the staff is also very discreet?“ he asks, emptying half of what must be his sixth cup of hot sake.

Victor raises an eyebrow and smirks as if he already has an idea where this might be going. „Dr Watson, are we being naughty again?"

Sherlock however has been slowed down enough by the alcohol to ramble on for a bit: „Mycroft recommended it, I’m sure the staff have passed every conceivable test the git could have come up–"

„Sherlock, shut up!“ Victor says resolutely and pulls him into a searing kiss. It takes Sherlock only another second to understand what the other two are on about before he responds in earnest.

„Merry Christmas to me,“ John grins and drains his cup.


	9. Holiday Food (Bleach)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleach – Byakuya/Renji (implied)

Renji had only started to enjoy the New Year’s festivities ever since he’d escaped Rukongai. With a roof over your head and a little money to spend on food and drinks, celebrating was actually possible. In Inuzuri, they'd had more important things to worry about than what year it was.

The first year, he’d spent nearly all of his salary on traditional New Year’s sweets. Stacks of mochi, a box of osechi and three bowls of ozoni later, he felt like he’d never eat again. But it had been worth it. It hadn’t even been high quality food, but at the time, Renji had still been amazed that he could just go up to a stall and buy food instead of stealing it. 

His firm favourite had become kinako mochi – they were sweet and smooth and had that wonderful nutty flavour. He got some every year, serving as a small reminder of what he achieved. Renji still bought the cheap kind, even though he eyed the fine, expensive ones in the high class tea shops every time he passed. Maybe some day, he’d treat himself to them, but so far, he still valued quantity over quality. At the back of his mind, even after decades, there was still the nagging fear of going hungry.

This New Year’s Eve, when he got back from a round of drinking with the other vice-captains, he came back to his quarters to find a neat black lacquer boy sitting on the low table. 

Curiosity piqued, he opened the box to find six kinako mochi sitting in white wrapping tissue inside. They looked exactly like the expensive ones from the tea shop in the first district he always wistfully stared at and Renji felt his mouth water at the sight of them.

With them came a small, off-white card he plucked from the paper to inspect.

 _’The best of luck for the new year,’_ it read. No signature.

But Renji didn’t need one to know who sent them, he’s seen the handwriting on countless reports as well as pages of haiku and clan journals stacked on a desk in the private study. The writing of the man who pretended not to pay any heed to even the ones closest to him.

Renji smiled at the card.


	10. Holiday Food [Bonus] (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor

„God, I’m never going to move again,“ Victor groans, lying across the sofa in an undignified heap. „Your mother officially killed me with that second dessert."

„No one forced you to eat half the Pavlova my mother only made because she thought you might like it,“ Sherlock says from the foot of the sofa, sipping on the tea he laced with rum. 

„But it was heavenly. I love Pavlova and you can’t get it anywhere in France. We used to have it for dessert after the Christmas barbecue at our neighbours’.“ Kiwi, cherry and mango Pavlova with heaps of cream, to be precise. 

„Barbecues for Christmas…“ Sherlock snorts and shakes his head.

„It must sound funny when there’s two feet of snow outside the window,“ Victor says and grins, „but believe me, at thirty degrees with the sun burning, a burger sounds much better than a roast and pudding.“ If their mum had to work, Victor and his sisters spent their Christmas Day at their neighbours’ house while they were still younger. They always held an amazing barbecue.

„The second helping of Pavolva might have been a bit over the top, I admit,“ Victor says after a pause, popping the top button of his trousers to give his belly much needed space. „I hope you had no plans for today, because I don’t think I’ll be able to lift a finger."

„That’s too bad, because I _was_ planning to give you an extensive tour of my old room,“ Sherlock hums with mock innocence and sneaks one hand inside Victor’s trouser leg.

Victor cracks open an eye. „With a focus on your boyhood bed where once, you lost your innocence?“ he asks with a smirk.

„I didn’t lose my innocence in that bed. It’s still _virgo intacta_.“ Sherlock smiles like the cat who didn’t get just one canary, but a whole flock of them. So much for lounging on the sofa. There are offers you just can’t refuse.

„Give me an hour to digest that pudding and I’m all yours"


	11. Old-Fashioned (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes & John Watson

„You know, when we met I was surprised that you had such a fondness for old-fashioned things,“ John smiled as he watched Sherlock unwrap his present. "Sleek and modern seemed more like you." 

For this present, he’d called in a couple of favours from old university buddies, but it was perfect for Sherlock: a post mortem set from the 19th century, complete with saws, scalpels and scissors. It came in a box made from dark cherry wood, corners bound in brass. John was rather proud of himself for being able to get this. Sherlock’s face lit up with excitement as he opened the box and took out the bone saw, inspecting it closely. 

„They’re antiques, John, not old-fashioned,“ Sherlock murmured and a smirk crept onto his face. "If I liked old-fashioned items, I’d have stolen one of your jumpers ages ago."


	12. Chocolate (Sherlock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Victor Trevor, Sherlock Holmes

As a man who’s in general not too keen on sweets, Victor certainly loves chocolate. Sherlock can always trust to happen upon half-eaten bars or empty wrappers ranging from the cheap store-brand kind to the nicer Swiss or Belgian types. Statistically, Victor prefers milk chocolate and dark chocolate over white and shows a fondness for nuts. 

An almost literal explosion of chocolate around Victor’s flat always occurs around his birthday and for Christmas when ridiculously large boxes from his family in New Zealand arrive. After that, Whittaker and Willy Wonka take up every surface space (which isn’t much in the tiny place, granted) for the weeks it takes him to consume the bars. Here and there, Sherlock decides to help with that.

More observation tells him that Victor eats the Wonka Bars first, with eagerness, although he appears to enjoy the Whittaker more. 

„Why Wonka?“ Sherlock asks one evening, holding a wrapper in his hand. „You are very keen on them, but you like the others better."

„Because of the film,“ Victor says with a grin. „I loved it as a kid. Always wanted to find the ticket for the factory."

„Which film?"

„What?“ Victor asks, looking shocked. „You can’t tell me you haven’t seen ‚Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory‘!"

Sherlock stares back with a blank look.

„Willy Wonka? Golden Ticket? Oompa-Loompas? Come on!"

„If I ever knew anything about it, I deleted it. Judging by the gibberish you’re sprouting, with good reason,“ Sherlock says and crumples the wrapper into a tight ball between his fingers.

„Gibberish?“ Sherlock has the impression Victor’s voice has just raised an octave. „That’s it. We’re watching it, tonight."

Sherlock is not going to waste his time on a character with an alliteration for a name. „Absolutely not!"

„If you refuse, I’m going to stop pretending that I don’t notice you eating half the bars."

Now he’s just fighting dirty.

„Fine."


	13. 12 Days Of... (FFVII)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy VII - Reno/Tseng

Twelve days of radio silence are the absolute maximum Reno can take. After that, he becomes a serious threat to himself and to the rest of the Turks.

Tseng’s been sent out to some super-secret undercover mission in Wutai, set to infiltrate an underground terrorist group who plans to regain control over Wutai from Shinra. Naturally, the President was not amused.

Bugs and tracking devices are too easy to find, radios and phones potentially a giveaway. Tseng has to go in alone and come back alone. The latter preferably not in a body bag. 

Reno hates the mission and displays a temper tantrum that would awe a five-year-old when Tseng tells him. Seven days to get in and out and he’d be back just in time for the New Year’s celebrations.

Seven days is five days ago and Tseng is nowhere to be found. Four days ago, he downed a bottle of Sake and sneered at the fireworks. Rude, by physical restraint, had to keep Reno from flying a helicopter into Wutai three days ago. Two days ago, Elena gave him a stern talking to and demanded he go back to being a leader instead of a headless chicken. Yesterday, he made a rookie cry over a late report. Today, he goes for Zen-like apathy.

Two more days and Tseng qualifies for MIA status. Reno will drink too much again tonight, silent company provided by Rude and they won’t talk about the fact they both know that Reno is shagging the boss. What a start to the new year.

At the end of day twelve, Reno is the only person still in the office (that never used to happen), catching up on paperwork from the last five days (if Tseng comes home to a backlog of work he’ll kill Reno). His eyes are dry and itchy from staring at the computer and he’s been ignoring the non-smoking policy in the building for three hours. Corporate spying, kidnapping and assassination should not require this much paperwork.

One thing the paperwork does well is keep his mind off the possibility that Tseng might not come back; that his body might wash up in a Wutaian river somewhere or not show up at all because it’s been thrown into a shallow grave. Reno resolutely refuses to entertain these options. Two days till MIA (if a Turk went MIA, it always became KIA). Tseng could not be dead. Reno would kill him all over again for leaving him behind to deal with paperwork.

He’s about ready to give up for the day when the door cracks open and Reno is suddenly confronted with the man he wanted to kill if he left him to do the leading.

Tseng is not in good condition. Cut on his cheek that looks infected, purple bruise on his temple and chin, at least one broken rib judging by the way he carries himself. He has grey shadows under his eyes, framed by tangled stands of hair. The front of his shirt is dotted with rusty-brown bloodspray (the target’s, hopefully).

„Motherfucker,“ Reno curses, his usual eloquent self.

Tseng’s answering smile is tired, but amused. „Happy New Year to you, too."


	14. Holiday Carol Karaoke (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Sherlock Holmes (John Watson, Greg Lestrade)

Sherlock doesn’t believe in karma, but today, it doesn’t keep him from wondering what he did wrong to deserve this. Is it because he snapped at the cashier yesterday? 

He can’t drink enough alcohol to make him forget this, because the amount required surely exceeds what his body can take. Also, he needs to hold onto his control because the only thing worse than enduring the spectacle is participating in it.

John Watson and Gilbert (Gerold? Gustav?) Lestrade, both inebriated beyond all reason, wearing glittery antlers in a Japanese karaoke bar on Gerrard Street and singing a very off-key rendition of ‚Deck the Halls‘ at the top of their lungs.

Sherlock would have bolted before he died of embarrassment if he weren’t so busy recording a video on his phone for future blackmail.


	15. Re-gifting (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Sherlock Holmes, Victor Trevor

„Say, Sherlock. Are you by any chance re-gifting Christmas jumpers from your mum to me?“ Victor asks as he fishes a knitted jumper from the gift bag Sherlock handed him fifteen minutes earlier. 

Victor has an affinity for silly Christmas jumpers. He thinks they’re charming, especially when handmade. It’s pretty much the only thing he wears in December that hasn’t got a band logo on it. For the last three years, Sherlock has given him jumpers with his other presents – all hand-knitted. One blue with snow crystals, one red with deer and now a green one with a letter.

„Why would I do that?“ Sherlock asks, face blank. Too blank. Victor knows that face; Sherlock always employs it when Victor is onto him.

„There was a chance that the S on this green jumper either stands for Slytherin or Sherlock. But since we’re talking about you…"

„Slyther–what?"

„My point exactly."


	16. Roasting Marshmallows (FFVII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy VII - Reno (implied Reno/Tseng)

„Spit it out: who did you sell the Materia to?“ Reno asked, flexing his acing knuckles. 

He was royally pissed off, and the fat bastard he’s been interrogating for the last forty-five minutes remains stubborn as a mule. Now he’d got a red-and-blue bruise on his jaw and still just glowered with his little pig eyes.

„I’m done with the kid gloves," Reno gritted out. "I had one foot out of the door for my holidays and then I have to go back in and pick up your lily white arse. The faster I’m through with you, the faster I can actually leave and not come back for two weeks.“

„I ain’t telling you shit."

Valerius Jondal, a small time slumlord, also known as ‚The Marshmallow‘ (seriously, why did the slum types always pick these shitty nicknames?) under the plate. Reminded Reno of something out of Ghostbusters. Skin white as a sheet, white-blonde hair and an almost-red pair of eyes, coming in at a weight over three hundred and fifty pounds. The dude really did look like a hairy marshmallow. Word was that he had slum kids steal Materia off Shinra soldiers to sell to some unknown buyer. The President feared the buyer might be a terrorist group and wanted a name.

And this was were Reno came in. On his first day off! The plan was to be lazing on the sofa right now, gorging himself on pizza until Tseng got off work, then laze some more, have sex, and then go to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat for the next two weeks. And now this bastard was putting a dent in his plan.

„Forget it, Reno,“ Tseng said from the other end of the basement room where he was leaning against the door frame. He sounded impatient. "We don’t have time to waste on small crooks like him. Make him spill or kill him, it doesn’t matter.“ 

„Alright,“ Reno said, now deadly calm. A flick of his wrist extended his EMR, crackling with electricity. Highest setting.

He fixed his eyes on the prisoner. „Time to roast some marshmallows."


	17. Jolly (FFVII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy VII - Reno, Elena, Rude

He isn’t paid enough to put up with this shit. Reno would take the time to evaluate his life choices, but they were screwed up no matter how he looked at it. Part of the job description.

The job description never said anything about dressing up as Santa. Reno would have found that paragraph in his contract (if he’d have bothered to read it). Yet, here he is, right in the centre of Midgar Christmas Fair, dressed in a bloody Santa costume.

Because naturally, President Shinra needed that hit to happen _right now_. Can’t wait till tomorrow when the target isn’t waltzing over a Christmas Fair with thousands of other people. Thousands squeezed into a place like sardines, that turns a hit into a breeze. Fucking hell.

„Cheer up, Reno. Santa is supposed to be the jolly type, you know?“ His intercom springs to life, revealing a giggling Elena. She’s really pleased she managed to evade the fancy dress party. 

„Piss off,“ Reno bites out, scanning the crowds for the face of their target. That fucking fake beard itches like hell and smells of cheap, barely legal plastic.

„Aw, so touchy,“ Elena coos. His mood doesn’t impress her in the slightest. „Both of you, head west. I think I spotted him on CCTV."

Reno wants to groan. He turned around to head east not ten minutes ago. Now he’s got to go back again. Goddamnit. 

Elena is still vibrating with schadenfreude on the other end of the line and starts to hum ‚Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer‘ with vigour. 

„Oh, shut up,“ Rude’s very annoyed voice comes up on the intercom. 

Reno almost forgot there’s someone even worse off than he is: Rude on the second perimeter, dressed up as Rudolph, complete with antlers and a blinking red nose. He threatened Reno with a painful death should he so much as think about snapping a picture. Spoilsport.

„Yo, Rudolph,“ Reno talks back. "Be jolly! Bet the kids love the nose, don’t they?"

He starts to hum the melody alongside Elena and can almost feel Rude gritting his teeth. The guy is going to kill him.

Best snap a picture before he does.


	18. Red and Green (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor

„Mhh,“ Victor hummed against the sweat-slicked skin of Sherlock’s neck, nosing the junction between shoulders and throat. „You have to admit, some of those silly Christmas traditions are rather fun."

„Such as?“ Sherlock asks, small smile on his lips as he winds one of Victor’s dreadlocks around his hand. Victor is half draped over Sherlock, his weight a comforting pressure. His skin his radiating heat, even towards the end of December.

„Like buggering you next to a poinsettia on the nightstand,“ Victor grins and traces a finger repeatedly over Sherlock’s pierced nipple. Sherlock has to bite his lip to stifle a groan. Victor’s paid thorough attention to Sherlock’s nipples for the last half hour and now they’re sensitive to every light touch.

„I believe you’re referring to kissing under a mistletoe,“ Sherlock says and closes his eyes as Victor starts to bite at his pectoral.

„Mistletoe, poinsettia…pretty much the same thing.“ Licking at his collarbone now. Victor is excellent at distraction. 

„On the most basic level, there is the small visual difference of mistletoe being white and green, while poinsettia favour red and green.“ Excellent analysis. If he didn’t have a Victor Trevor attached to him licking his way from the collarbone to the nipple, he might even have come up with something above primary school level. „Also, kissing is not synonymous with intercourse."

Victor’s lips hover above his breastbone. „Nitpicker,“ he says with a smile. „I think it’s an excellent tradition."

„It’s not a tradition,“ Sherlock protests, but it’s a weak one because his prick has rediscovered an interest in the proceedings.

„It should be one. You know how you create a tradition? By repetition, over and over. So I’m going to fuck you next to this poinsettia again right now,“ Victor whispers in his ear and grabs a handful of Sherlock’s arse.

Who was Sherlock to stand in the way of a for once sensible tradition?


	19. Family Photo (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Victor Trevor/Sherlock Holmes

„Reminiscing?“ Sherlock asks, suddenly manifesting behind Victor’s shoulder and leaning in to get a good look at the photograph Victor is holding in his hands.

„I just found it in a book. Didn’t even know I had this,“ Victor grins and holds it up for Sherlock to see better.

It’s an old family picture of Victor with an arm around his little sisters at the beach. Victor thinks he must have been around sixteen or seventeen when it was taken – his hair is already long, but he hasn’t got his dreadlocks yet (and instead sports that horrible bleaching job in an attempt to look more like Kurt Cobain) and wears a lumberjack shirt over a Metallica t-shirt. He looks like a complete dork and a half. Although he’s got nothing on his sisters in their ridiculous 1990s jumpers the size of potato sacks. He should make a copy of the picture and send it to them, just for the laugh.

„You can tell that I was badly trying to look like Kurt Cobain at the time."

„Who?"

Victor sighs. „I should break up with you just for not knowing who Kurt Cobain was."

„Given your limited interests, my guess is that he’s a musician,“ Sherlock says with a derisive shrug.

„Limited interests? Pot, Kettle, darling,“ Victor snorts and leans forward to pin the photograph on the corkboard next to his desk. It goes well with the other family pictures ranging from the 1980s to the one from his sister’s wedding last year.

„Are you creating a family shrine?“ Sherlock asks, one eyebrow raised.

„Some of us like our family and want pictures of them around when they’re several thousand miles away,“ Victor chuckles and pats Sherlock’s cheek. „Do you even have a family picture?"

„Oh, I have several,“ Sherlock says with a devilish smirk. "There’s one I like in particular where Mycroft is fourteen, severely overweight and dressed in a knitted Christmas jumper. He developed an unfortunate bout of acne just two weeks before Christmas and couldn’t get rid of it completely. I revel in this picture whenever Mycroft annoys me.“ 

„Your brother in a Christmas jumper? How much do I need to pay you to see that?"


	20. Home for the Holidays (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes, Victor Trevor (tattoo!lock AU)

„This. Is. Appalling.“ Sherlock stresses every word of the sentence to make sure Victor gets how appalling this is.

„Sorry you don’t like New Zealand,“ Victor says with a wry smile as they follow behind one of Victor’s sisters who’s come to pick them up at the airport.

„I’m talking about the weather,“ Sherlock snaps and squints against the glaring sun. "Why would anyone elect to live in a place where’s it’s twenty-seven degrees in mid-December?"

"That’s what happens when you live on the Southern half of the planet,“ Victor grins and watches with schadenfreude Sherlock shielding his eyes. He insisted he wouldn’t need sunglasses and that they looked ridiculous. „You didn’t have to come, you know."

„And celebrate Christmas with Mycroft? God, no.“ Sherlock scrunches up his face as he lifts his luggage into the boot of Victor's sister’s car. Give it another thirty minutes and Sherlock wouldn’t mind the weather much anymore. „Not that there’s any escaping Christmas here, summer or not."

That much is true – the fact that it’s summer doesn’t hold anyone back from decorating for Christmas. Having lived on the Northern hemisphere for so long now, Victor has to admit that Christmas-themed decorations kind of went better with winter scenarios. At least in daylight.

„I have an idea how to get away from all the cheer: I’ve spoken to an old friend from school. His family is from a Maori tribe and some of them do traditional tattooing. We can make a day trip and visit the tattooists. Couple hours outside Christchurch and it should be free of any and all Christmas trees."

Never mind thirty minutes to get used to New Zealand. It’s only been fifteen and Sherlock beams.

„When do we leave?"


	21. Star (FF7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy 7 - Tseng/Reno

"Man, I had no idea Wutai could be this nice," Reno sighs contentedly and leans over to pick a bottle of huangjiu from the pot of water where it is kept warm on a small stove.

"Shinra's propaganda is nothing if not effective." A smile plays around Tseng's lips, holding up his cup to be refilled. "All of the Eastern Continent thinks Wutai is the pit of hell."

„Their loss. Let 'em squeeze on Costa del Sol beaches like a bunch of sardines,“ Reno says, raising his glass for a mock toast. „I’m liking my heated terrace in some unpronounceable Wutai mountain resort just fine."

He likes it a lot, actually. A comfortable, remote place that Tseng unearthed by use of magic (at least that’s what Reno’s convinced of because places like these normally don’t exist on this shitty planet). They’ve placed heaters using Fire Materia on the terrace overlooking the country and it’s warm enough to lounge about in bath robes.

„It’s not hard to pronounce – but we know your grasp on languages is abysmal,“ Tseng teases. „But the terrace is very nice indeed."

„You can even see the stars. Been ages since I saw a clear sky."

„The pollution in Midgar makes star gazing rather difficult,“ Tseng agrees and takes a sip from his cup. „I didn’t know you appreciate the beauty of the night sky."

„I fly helicopters for a living, of course I appreciate anything in the air,“ Reno smirks. „And I always thought it must be amazing to get a blow job while you can stare up into a sky like this."

„Oh, do you?“ Tseng asks in a level tone, but Reno detects a hint of challenge. „I wondered that myself."

„Care to test the theory?"

„Oh yes."


	22. Making Ornaments (Bleach)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bleach - Kuchiki Byakuya & Kuchiki Rukia

What Byakuya finds after going to seek out his sister for a conversation about New Year’s festivities is said sister kneeling on the tatami floor, surrounded by paper scraps. Rukia is in the process of attacking a piece of paper ferociously with scissors and looks to be in deep concentration.

„Nii-sama!“ Rukia exclaims, trying to rake in the paper scarps around her with her arms. „I didn’t hear you come in, I apologise for this mess!"

Arms full of paper, she bows, causing some to the pieces to flutter down to the floor. 

„What is all this?“ Byakuya asks, picking up one of the papers that look like a sort of ornament.

„They’re snowflake ornaments – Inoue-san showed me how to make them,“ Rukia explains, dropping most of the paper on the tatami again. She holds up a folded sheet for Byakuya to examine.

„You cut out small pieces on each side,“ she says, pointing to the missing bits before unfolding the sheet carefully, „and once you unfold it, you get snowflake ornaments!"

Rukia’s eyes glitter with excitement. Byakuya plucks the the ‚snowflake‘ from her fingers for closer inspection. A curious technique to imitate ice crystals, but he could see the parallels. 

„It’s really exciting – you get a different pattern every time–“ she continues before her voice dies as if she just now remembered that she has been talking to Byakuya and not to one of her friends from the Gotei or the human realm. „I’m sorry for going on and on about it, nii-sama. It must not be of great interest to you."

„A dedication to crafts is a highly respected pastime among Kuchikis. You should continue with these and make a contribution for the kadomatsu decorations,“ Byakuya says and places the ornament back in Rukia’s hands.

His sister looks shocked for a moment, obviously having expected to be scolded for wasting her time on paper snowflakes.

Then she beams. „Of course, nii-sama! Thank you!"


	23. Childhood Memories (FF7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Fantasy 7 - Reno

Reno isn’t the type to sit around and get soppy around Christmas time when a whole lot of morons have nothing better to do than just that. They slink around the bar at the pub and lament and wallow in nostalgia.

He’d like to just bang all of their whiney heads on the counter. He hates the nostalgia, how ‚everything used to be better‘ in the past. Like hell it was. Even down in the slums people sprout that shit and Reno knows nothing used to be better under the plate. Life in the slums was, is and will be rubbish.

Christmas time might have been slightly better money and food-wise because a lot of folks were suddenly beset by goodwill and donated to places helping the ones under the plate. That, and pickpocketing yielded better results because all the idiots carried more money around. Reno needed to steal a lot less wallets for the same amount of cash close to Christmas. He usually got enough to last him for food for weeks, if not months. And new clothes or a sleeping bag, if he got very lucky. 

So when anyone asks him what his favourite thing about Christmas used to be as a child, he only says ‚the shoppers.'

And it’s not even a lie.


	24. Workplace Party (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) - Victor Trevor, John Watson (Sherlock Holmes) - tattoo!lock AU

„No Christmas parties. Definitely not,“ Victor says and shakes his head.

„Why not?“ John asks. „I thought you liked the whole Christmas stuff."

„Oh, I do,“ Victor mumbles as he focusses on one of the screws on his machine, twisting it a couple of times. „But parties never end well for me. It’s always a disaster that starts with too many drinks and ends with waking up with some horrible person in your bed."

Behind Victor, John can see Sherlock narrowing his eyes at the other’s back, throwing him a derisive look.

„Yes, that includes you, Sherlock,“ Victor says. He must have guessed that Sherlock would react to that statement. „You can be horrible in general when you wake up, but with a hangover? That’s like spending the morning in purgatory."

„Sherlock has hangovers?“ Sherlock isn’t the type to get pissed. John has seen him drink, but never more than three glasses of wine.

„He used to,“ Victor snorts before he curses at the screw that’s apparently doing something it’s not supposed to. John wouldn’t know.

„I did not,“ Sherlock speaks up, voice scathing.

„Oh yeah? What about 2002?“

„What happened in 2002?“ John is curious now. Sherlock doesn’t like to recount tales from the past, but Victor loves to share stories. He’s become an infinite well of Sherlockian antics.

„Oooh, that’s an interesting one. It involves a reindeer, a sexy Santa dress and punch,“ Victor says and a devilish smile appears on his lips.

At his desk in the back, Sherlock becomes very still.

That one ought to be good.


	25. Sleepless (Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (TV) – Sherlock Holmes, Redbeard

Sherlock hasn’t slept in 36 hours, but he doesn’t care. Redbeard lies across his bed, snoring softly. He was supposed to help Sherlock in this venture, but Sherlock hasn’t been able to make Redbeard understand that he can’t fall asleep. Not the ideal stakeout partner, really. 

Not that his stakeout hiding point is ideal, but Mummy’s shooed him back to his room twice now (and Sherlock thought she wouldn’t find him in the cupboard under the stairs) and the second time, she was rather put out. Sherlock doesn’t want to get grounded again, he’s got a critical mice experiment going on in the garden.

He’s confident he used the correct approach this year. Last year, the sling trap didn’t work out so well. Mycroft actually laughed at him, the stupid fat git. He’ll show him.

Sherlock would like to read while he waits, but he can’t risk the light getting seen. According to his bedside clock, he waits two hours and fifty-three minutes (during which Redbeard chases at least two imaginary rabbits) before he hears a loud _’thud’_ from the sitting room downstairs.

Redbeard snaps from his sleep and sits up, alert. Sherlock suppresses a triumphant cry and gets up, wrenching his door open.

It worked!

With Redbeard by his side, Sherlock hurries down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. It wouldn’t do to wake up Mummy or Dad. Or Mycroft, god forbid.

He should have thought of drugging the milk with the sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet last year. Only then he didn’t know yet where Mummy hides the key. But now, he’s got him.

He managed to trap Father Christmas, finally!

Slowly, he pushes open the door to the sitting room. One of the illuminated stars Mummy decorates the windows with is still on, making the room bright enough to see a figure sprawled in the armchair by the fireplace and Christmas tree. There are presents under the tree which weren’t there when Sherlock went to bed.

Sherlock tiptoes over to the armchair, Redbeard a step behind him. He peers round the back of the chair to finally see the face of the man who’s able to get past all the booby traps Sherlock sets in the chimney.

Oh drats. He drugged Dad again.

Mummy is so going to ground him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And though that last one came later than I'd hoped, I managed to get through all of the prompts for the advent calendar. Technically, there's a prompt left for December 25, but in Germany, advent calendars end at 24, so that's what I'm going to do ;)
> 
> This definitely attracted more attention than I expected, so thanks to everybody who left kudos and/or commented!


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